


Marked

by VagrantWriter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blindfolds, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VagrantWriter/pseuds/VagrantWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Ramsay seemed to like it when he fought back. Honestly, Theon couldn’t tell where the role playing ended sometimes. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> I came back from the weekend to find many lovely comments on my first fanfic. So...here's another.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented. You know, for psychotic perverts, you're all very sweet. :)

Hands ran up and down his sides, tickling at his ribs. Theon squirmed as much as he was able with his wrists bound to the headboard. Ramsay’s belt was beginning to chaff, but he couldn’t decide if he really wanted to pull free or not. Especially with the way Ramsay was whispering into his ear.

“Shh, easy there, Reek. Easy.” Theon didn’t even mind the name when Ramsay paused to lick along his jaw. Not that Theon could see with the blindfold on. “If you don’t stop squirming, I might not be able to control myself much longer.”

At that, he ground down into Theon’s pelvis, ground with the hardness of his erection. Theon couldn’t deny that he was hard, too. It was a bit confusing. Only a layer of clothing separated them; the sheets had been stripped off in a mad flurry, strewn somewhere amidst all the other clutter of Ramsay’s room.

“Maybe you’d like that,” Ramsay continued, now nuzzling his way down Theon’s throat, pausing to breathe against the beating of the pulse there. “Maybe you’d like me to just get on with it. Shove my cock up your ass, make you scream my name.” His breath came out through his nostrils as he ghosted his way down to Theon’s chest. “Mark you. Make you mine.” He stopped again at a nipple, hard against his attentions. “Is that what you’d like?”

Theon inhaled through his nose, filling his lungs. It felt too closed in, like the room was suffocating him.

He jolted when Ramsay’s tongue flicked across his nipple.

“Is that what you’d like?” he repeated.

Theon nodded. “Yes. Yes, that’s what I’d like.”

Ramsay chuckled, and suddenly he was sitting up, no longer bearing down from above.

The light filtering in through the cloth of the blindfold was tinted slightly blue, and Theon lifted his head this way and that as the mattress bounced, releasing Ramsay’s weight. He wanted to see. He wanted to see what Ramsay was planning. Although no one ever knew what Ramsay was planning.

“Don’t worry, Theon.” He could feel Ramsay’s voice from across the room. He was rummaging through something on the dresser, judging by the clinking sounds. “You’ll get what you want. But not right now. Right now I have others plans in mind.”

Theon tested the belt again. Even if he pulled his hardest, even if he wanted to escape, he probably couldn’t. Should he still struggle, though? Make a show of it? Ramsay seemed to like it when he fought back. Honestly, Theon couldn’t tell where the role playing ended sometimes.

Footsteps padded across the cement floor and Ramsay climbed onto the bed, first one knee and then the other, straddling Theon, keeping his lower half pinned with his strong legs. And his legs were strong. Theon could feel the way they clenched around him, holding him down. He could also feel the hardness again, rubbing against him insistently. Ramsay leaned over and…

Theon yelped at the burning sensation on his right nipple, the one Ramsay had been playing with. It was so unexpected, it took a half second later to realize that it wasn’t burning, it was just really, really cold. Biting. And wet, as well. Wetness slid down his pecs and Ramsay twisted the ice cube this way and that over his nipple.

“It’s cold,” Theon whimpered. It shouldn’t have bothered him, a little bit of cold. But he couldn’t _see_. If he could just see…

The biting turned to a low gnawing, a pain that swelled from the epicenter of pressure, and Ramsay just kept at his work. “Shh,” he coaxed again. “Can you feel this?”

Whatever Ramsay was doing, Theon couldn’t feel it over the ice. He shook his head.

“Good.”

A hand, cold and wet with melted ice, stroked along his cheek. Theon leaned into the touch. It was something grounding in the darkness. He chased after it when it left his face, but then the belt pulled taut and he collapsed back into the pillows, cut loose.

“Now,” Ramsay continued. “Hold. Very. Still.”

The pain was sharp and instantaneous, but somehow it took a few seconds between when his body jolted and when his mind caught up with it. He drew in a sharp breath and could feel his nipple being pulled tightly by something. It was hard to tell what. Everything was cold, but the pain was burning it away. A wetness, warmer and thicker than water, dribbled down his chest and pooled in the dips of his stomach.

He tossed his head from side to side, trying to shake off the blindfold.

The cold, wet hand was back, and Ramsay was cooing. “Shh, shh, you did very well.”

“What…what did you do?” He tried to keep the hysteria out of his voice, but he was afraid Ramsay had cut the entire thing off. It felt like that.

“I’m marking you, like you wanted.”

Theon held back a sob by digging into his anger. He hadn’t agreed to that! He regretted agreeing to the belt and the blindfold, but he had agreed to them. This…this was mutilation!

“It’s a good look on you.” Ramsay’s dry hand fluttered to his wounded chest. Theon squirmed and bucked in earnest when he took the nub and gave it a quick twist. Pain blossomed, but something else. Something subtle underneath that caused him to bite back on a moan. “When it heals, you’ll be happy to have them.”

“Have…them?”

“Your piercings, stupid.” Ramsay cuffed him on the ear, gently though, playfully. “Now, quit squirming while I do the other one.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think the Archive officially hates me. It ate this piece and just recently spewed it back out. Almost like it's trying to tell me something...


End file.
